


Not-So Sealed Lips

by Sinnykins



Series: Guardiancest AU [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blindfolds, Breathplay, Dirty Talk, Guardiancest, Humiliation, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Play, Rimming, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-17
Updated: 2012-09-17
Packaged: 2017-11-14 10:08:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/514105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinnykins/pseuds/Sinnykins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Okay, so maybe Dave is a little loud in the sack, but that doesn't give Bro any right to TEASE him about it; cue impromptu "keep quiet during sex" competition on Dave's end. Not that Bro has any intention of letting him win...and not that Dave actually WANTS Bro to let him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not-So Sealed Lips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carmineDame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carmineDame/gifts).



> Super late birthday fic for my wonderful playmate and friend, Kat uwu you're wonderful, woman, and although it took me way longer than I ever meant it to, I hope you enjoy this a bunch. I even got a lovely surprise in here for you ;3 lots of love!
> 
> And to everyone else, please enjoy as well!

“…What about that time you woke the residents one level lower, and they proceeded to bang on their ceiling to express their disapproval?”

 

Dave blearily looked up from his bowl of lucky charms at the sound of Bro’s voice, crescent slivers of red iris peeking over the ever-present aviators adorning his face. There was blond fuzz beginning to sprout along his jaw, a six-o-clock shadow that’d taken him precisely two and a half days to grow, and even though he was only clad in a pair of boxers there didn’t seem to be too many more patches of pale fluff elsewhere. It was probably a talent that he could still manage to look so scruffy with so little hair follicle activity.

 

“Jesus Christ are you still going on about that shit? What a-fucking-bout it? It’s over and done with, buried six days under the weight of the past and no more relevant than what the queen of England ate for dinner yesterday.” His expression turned subtly sour – relatively flat to the untrained eye, but he was sure Bro could pick up the slightest scrunching of his nose and the vaguely downward angle of his lips.

 

“Actually, I might be able to find that out for you—“

 

Dave stabbed the curved edge of his spoon into a garishly colored horseshoe, easy breaking the half-soggy excuse for a marshmallow in two.

 

“No fucking thank you, that’s not even the point. It’s like so far from the point it’s heading straight into the land of Narnia or some shit, so let me pull you right back outta that crazy trip of a wardrobe and casually remind you that you need to drop this shit like it’s giving you freezer burn because the topic is so cold it’s icy.” Even he wasn’t entirely sure what nonsense he was spewing. To be fair, he’d had a few awfully late nights…like, the kind of nights that go so late he substituted energy drink-spiked apple juice for a bit of shut eye. Between film production and the insatiable sexual nature of his “partner”, he just hadn’t had any room in his planner to fit sleep in for an appointment.

 

Well, until last night, but eight hours after a couple all nighters tended to make him groggy as all hell and he was still waking up.

 

“ _My_ point was that any topic can be made relevant depending on the interests of the inquirer, and it just so happens that I am _exceptionally_ interested in the multitude of instances where vicious bed rocking has led to plenty of angry neighbor knocking.”

 

Bro was eyeing him casually from across the table, behind the shield of his unrealistically pointy shades, a cup of coffee cradled in one large hand and nothing more than a pair of plain gray sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips – deceptively plain, actually, because he had seen the pink rhinestone covered backside glinting a jeering “JUICY” in the light of his bedroom that very moment. It had near-blinded him. Dave also knew full well that there wasn’t a damned thing under those sweats. But seriously though, it wasn’t like he was a cock-hungry fiend that constantly tended to fantasize about Bro’s giant, bare length outlined in disgusting overworn fabric. Definitely not. And they sure as hell hadn’t screwed at least once every day since that first time in his shower.

 

“Oh my god, can you just never say anything like that ever again because I’m pretty sure my irony gland will proceed to explode in a huge mess of puss and blood like something out of a B level horror flick. And as I lay in agony, verbally stabbed through the most vital part of my existence, I’ll whisper the next SBaHJ film idea into your ear, except that without my irony gland intact it’ll be missing the best parts. You’ll try to make it anyway and cash in on my sweet fame, but in the end all the magic will be missing without my beautiful irony and you’ll end up bankrupt because of all the shit you sank in that clusterfuck of awful script writing and amateur production. You’ll be ruined, fall to your knees cursing my name and your own idiocy as they strip you of your assets and you’re forced to go find yourself a street corner to spend the night at.” He stuffed a spoonful of mutilated marshmallow bits into his mouth and tried not to pretend that they were actually the head of Bro’s delicious throbbing organ.

 

It was pretty easy considering they weren’t anywhere near the same texture or flavor.

 

“Are you finished yet, or do you still have something left in you even after all the crazy ass running your mouth did last night?” Eyebrows casually rose, obviously to accent his question, but there was something challenging there too.

 

“You mean the part where I choked down your entire god damn cock, because I’m pretty damn good at talking with my mouth full…or am I missing a key scene from our magical evening of hellishly exhausted copulation? Did I doze off in the middle and call you daddy or something?”

 

This time it was a single eyebrow raise, meaning Bro was probably mulling that over in his criminally inclined mind, possibly even storing it away for later. Dave had to resist the urge to wince at the thought.

 

“How about the part where even with my dick down your throat you’re still loud as hell?”

 

“Dude, I do not fucking moan around your dick.” With only the weird cereal shit still left in his bowl, he had lost interest in his breakfast in favor of trying to salvage whatever pride he could hold around himself while in Bro’s presence. The answer was like negligible because that bastard didn’t let him keep a shred of it…though as much as he hated it, the stripping was pretty damn arousing every time Bro really dug in.

 

“You moan loud and constantly, like a top notch whore who clawed her way into the big league through her sheer desperation to take more dick – like a porn star that honestly loves that shit and needs everyone to know how badly you want it. It’s cool, last I heard your lower neighbors were looking into some better soundproofing. Guess your impassioned screams were a bit too much for them.”

 

When his entire personality seemed constructed around this ideal of controlling his reactions, of presenting a calm façade in the face of inner turmoil and outer attacks on his well-being, it was still ground-shaking to have Bro rub it in his face that he was incapable of showing restraint in bed. To be fair, all of his attempts at staying cool seemed to fall apart around Bro period, but this was blatantly poking fun at a slightly more humiliating instance regarding self-control. This was not only degrading to his self-image of careful composure, but it simultaneously stroked Bro’s ego…all in all this wasn’t a thing he could allow to happen. At least, not without resisting a bit first.

 

“Oh, _that_? Haha, you mean all the noise I make for _your_ benefit? ‘Course I noticed how you get off on that shit like a verbal handjob, like all it takes is a low groan of your name and you’re practically ready to jizz yourself silly. Sure, I’ll admit that I find your reactions to it pretty damn amusing, but it’s not like I couldn’t be quieter than a mute mouse if I wanted to. All you had to do was ask, man.” He shrugged his shoulders, sliding back into the comforting embrace of faux-nonchalance as he casually nudged slowly degrading oat mush around his bowl.

 

“Can you, now?” Bro didn’t sound convinced. He didn’t sound much like anything, except perhaps a little amused. Dave was pretty certain he was just showing off his own ability to remain unreadable, and he rolled his eyes in response. If anything, this partnership had probably taken a toll on his maturity and self-control.

 

But he’d continue to put up a fight over it, if only because he found the way Bro could so easily crush his defiance as delicious as he did frustrating.

 

Dave shrugged again, a slow roll of discreetly tensed muscles as he waited to be challenged again. The repeated action was clearly an assurance of his previous statement, and when he got up from his chair to bring the bowl of milky cereal to the sink, it was a passive-aggressive assertion that there was nothing left to discuss.

 

At least it had the desired effect, because as he was washing out his bowl he felt strong arms glide against his bare hips, wrapping firmly around his waist so he could feel biceps flex and hold him fast like a warm steel trap. Fingers splayed across his stomach, sensation burning into his nerve endings to shoot the fire of anticipation straight through his veins. Work worn pads, irresistibly textured and rough and scraping the sensitive skin around his navel, travelled ever so slightly lower to ghost along the very edge of his waistband…warm breath curled against his neck, tickling small blond hairs dusting the nape and sending a slow shiver down his spine.

 

He could feel an ache in his chest, a low thrumming through his vocal chords that struggled to rise into audible sound, but he resisted.

 

“Would you mind if I called bullshit and asked to test this theory?”

 

* * *

 

The fabric was silky as it slid against his fluttering eyelids – mostly closed, but desperate to slide open and keep watch over the deadly predator, the very one tying the sash across his eyes. When it was fitted snugly he did crack one open momentarily, but the pitch blackness was more disconcerting with his eyes actively straining to see. He could feel the subtle increase in his pulse, the faster tempo of his heart beat bringing with it a mild sort of anxiety that was probably fairly common with all sorts of sensory deprivation. It was nerve-wracking to sit there wondering what on earth Bro was planning on doing next, where he might touch him and in what way…but he supposed that lack of predictability was also contributing to his growing sense of excitement.

 

“Yo, hey, mind reminding me real fast just what the hell blindfolding has to do with the whole keeping quiet during sex competition you decided to start?” He reached out, blindly groping for Bro. His fingertips touched warm, smooth skin, and he slowly began to slide them across the surface to trace dips and contours, exploring the lines of Bro’s body and watching the picture they played out in his mind’s eye. It morphed and became clearer the more he felt Bro out with his hand, until he touched something he was pretty sure qualified as a nipple, and he could pinpoint his location on Bro’s chest.

 

That’s when the carefully constructed image he had painstakingly painted was abruptly ripped out from under him in one fell swoop; a push and he was on his back, lying amongst the plush embrace of his mattress and blankets, but entirely disoriented in regards to where Bro was in relation to him. Back to a blank slate, any sense of comfort or confidence that he’d been fostering with his exploration snuffed out of existence.

 

As he struggled to sit up and start mouthing off, a hand slid up his bare chest, brushing his ribs, between his pecs, trailing along his collarbone and up the side of his throat to trace his jaw. There was no following the path with his gaze. There was no body language to read, to give him a heads up on where Bro planned on going, that split second of preparation and expectation with predictable touches following close behind.

 

It startled his nerves into heightened sensitivity and left him on-edge as he waited for whatever Bro had in mind to subject him to, with nothing but barely audible shifting to warn him as to what might come next.

 

“To prevent you from cheating, of course.” Came Bro’s answer, and Dave’s head twitched a little in the direction. One hand shot out to seek his partner’s face, but it was pinned down before it could reach skin. He was rewarded with a soft tsking near his ear, a sound that he could feel as much as hear. “I want you to have no choice but to feel what I’m about to do to you. If you can truly stay quiet, you should have no need to distract yourself with visual displays.”

 

Something warm and wet – Bro’s tongue – slid against the shell of his ear, tracing curves and leisurely making its way down to his earlobe. He caught the flesh between his teeth and pinched, tugged, gave one long suck and then let it go in favor of breathing on the now-dampened flesh. “I’m gonna make you _scream_ today, kiddo,” he purred.

 

Before Dave could try and retort, to come back with something calm, unaffected, joking, anything to build a defense against Bro, lips were suddenly pressed against his own.

 

Bro had this way of manipulating things, of taking control and getting exactly what he wanted, while simultaneously lacking that sense of being outwardly demanding. The way he kissed him was firm and self-assured, lips a little dry but moving fluidly against Dave’s in stroking, kneading, rubbing, tugging motions. It was dizzying, suffocating Dave under the scalding heat of his mouth and the way Bro dominated his lips. There was no need to demand entrance because when he slid the tip of his tongue along Dave’s lips, the smaller blond was too lost in the current of Bro’s rhythm to do anything but comply. They spread, almost unwittingly, the action flowing naturally into the seamless string of movements that made up this oral dance.

 

It was electric to feel Bro pushing that warm, slick muscle into his mouth. He dove in head first, meeting him forcefully and trying to pin his partner. But he always found himself getting maneuvered beneath Bro with casual ease, held down as long as the larger man pleased before he released him to try again. The heat it bred inside him consumed the oxygen within his lungs like the flames of a ravenous fire, licking his insides as Bro licked his teeth, but when he tried to turn his head and regain his breath, a hand held his head still and his tongue continued to plunder that intimate cavern.

 

A noise threatened to rise up in his throat and nearly would have if he didn’t remember at the last second that he was currently engaged in a competition – and not just the usual tonsil hockey they liked to fight at. It must have caused a noticeable tensing of his muscles to refrain, because Bro immediately rose to the challenge; the hand not holding his head still came out of nowhere, the touch of fingertips to his nipple startling him.

 

There was no time wasted on delicate brushes, of circling in on a target and giving Dave the chance to prepare. Bro dove right in, trapping the nub between his thumb and forefinger and immediately giving a sharp pinch that made Dave’s back arch right off the mattress. The grip twisted and curled, pulled and released, short nails dragging back and forth across the far too sensitive raised flesh. What made it worse was that Dave’s mind was filling in the details, the vivid image of Bro’s thick fingers tormenting his chest. His tongue was abruptly pinned down and the wide surface of Bro’s thumb rolled in tight, lazy movements against Dave’s nipple, using enough pressure to hold it down similarly to the plight of his oral muscle.

 

He told himself over and over that he could do it, that he could keep quiet because this was nothing…but he couldn’t clear his mind of the thoughts, of the picture of what was being done to him…and he couldn’t escape the pleasure that rolled through him in vicious waves.

 

Suddenly he could breathe again and he choked on the sharp breath he struggled to pull into his burning lungs, painfully aware of a cooling trail of saliva leading down his chin, of how bruised his lips felt. He jerked his head, ears straining to help him pinpoint Bro’s direction, but all he could hear was his own panting and the thundering of his heart.

 

Fingers still toyed with his nipple, alternating between pinching and rubbing and rolling, tugging, squeezing, flicking, anything to make his body jump…anything that he wasn’t expecting. He was chewing his lower lip even before the kisses came: scalding, fast, brief, like touches of a hot iron to his skin, and never predictable. There was one above his heart, one ghosting his ribs, one close to his navel, on his shoulder, back down to his hip…the sensation couldn’t have been ticklish at most, but something about the surprise of their placement kept him on edge and kept his body jolting each time it was adorned with another moist brush of lips. Sometimes his tongue slid out as well, tasting the perspiration that began to gather on his flesh at the heat, and the exertion it took to control himself.

 

Bro was so low on his body, practically pressing his mouth to the front of his boxers, that Dave had accidentally allowed himself to assume he would begin focusing there. But it seemed he had yet to finish surprising him, because his mouth suddenly encased his free nipple in wet heat, tongue lathing over the nub before applying suction. To have both being toyed with so fervently, so mercilessly, was maddening and he openly squirmed and writhed, forcing himself into silence by redirecting the energy into the jerky movements of his limbs. He was allowed to clench his fingers in Bro’s gelled hair, squeeze the strands as his nails caught on the fabric of his sheets and made the most interesting noise as they scraped. The inhalations he drew in through his nose were shaky and loud, his teeth viciously worrying his lip and preventing him from taking more satisfying mouthfuls of air.

 

It was like the larger male was intent on devouring them, what with the ferocity he worked them over, the way he tugged and nibbled…or perhaps he just wanted to keep Dave’s muscles quivering beneath him. The torture dragged on far too long, to the point where his chest was beginning to feel sore…where all of his focus seemed to be honed in on the ministrations on his chest, because he was being forced to _feel_ it, where there was no attention to spare for anything else. He was sure they looked red, swollen, puffy beneath Bro’s lips and fingers.

 

He nearly made a noise of complaint, but it caught like a lump in his throat and stayed there no matter how many times he tried to swallow it back down.

 

Then all stimulation was gone, leaving his nipples throbbing deliciously, the saliva on one cooling rapidly on his skin and contrasting with the heat seeming to radiate through the other. Bro had pulled away from his hand, left him lost amidst the sea of his mattress without a sense of orientation, dizzy on pleasure and the thrill of trying to expect what he couldn’t.

 

There was shifting, but he couldn’t figure out the direction it was coming from…not until strong hands rolled him onto his stomach and pulled his hips up, so that his knees bent and supported him, while his shoulders remained on the bed. He’d almost lost it then, the surprise enough to nearly free a sound from him, but he muffled it beneath a cough and pressed his face into sheets.

 

A hand struck his ass out of the blue, the slap muffled by fabric and not hard enough to do much more than tingle, but his whole body jerked forward and he nearly bit his tongue clean off as his eyes snapped open against the blindfold. He whipped his head around, desperately trying to look over his shoulder, but there was nothing but blackness and the weird sensation of his eyelashes brushing against the silk. Two hands cupped either side of his ass through his boxers, squeezed and rubbed, held them apart even if he wasn’t yet naked enough to be exposed. Fingers dug in and he could feel the indents, and he imagined perfectly how his pale skin would begin to redden with the beginnings of a faint coloration.

 

Another slap, harder this time, enough that he could feel and hear it better and he had to throw himself back down against the bed to catch the noise that wanted to rip free of his throat. He shuddered, as if the shock rippled through his whole body, out to his fingertips that pulled on fistfuls of blankets. Just as he was struggling to recover, he felt cool air caress super heated skin, fabric sliding lower until it pooled in a limp mess around his knees. His thighs were trembling, his dick rock hard against his stomach and his ass presented plainly for Bro to see.

 

Nothing happened for a few moments, as if Bro was letting him fret and wonder and anticipate…maybe spending that time admiring the sight, for all he knew. But it wasn’t doing anything good for his nerves, and even the air against his skin felt like stimulation at this point. His breathing still came uneven, his grip on the sheets was still tight, and he continued to shiver.

 

It was only when he was about ready to voice his complaint, the words on the tip of his tongue and lips parting to deliver them that Bro’s hands slid over his flesh again. They started at his trembling thighs, rubbing along the backs and the inner sides, nearly brushing his balls but very careful to leave them be as he slid up towards his ass. Again he cupped it, this time with nothing in his way, so Dave could feel each finger as it pressed into his skin…even short nails biting in just a little bit. Squeezing, massaging, kneading, then the sharp sound of skin on skin. It stung briefly before melting away into a more lingering sort of tingling sensation, and Dave could feel his eyes prickle behind the embrace of silk.

 

“Better keep holding your tongue, kiddo…unless you want to advertise to the world that the great Dave Strider’s getting a spanking.” The words were startlingly close to his ear, even as hands continued to roam over his ass. It was stressful as fuck, always waiting for another slap but never knowing when it might happen, not when Bro was trying to soothe him into a false sense of security with the docile massaging. “Do you want them to know that you’ve been a bad little boy? That it’s up to me to keep you in line, give you a good old fashioned punishment to teach you a lesson?”

 

The words seemed to vibrate against his ear and he shuddered hard, tried to ignore them but found it difficult when Bro hit him again and made every muscle in his body jump. He was out and out chewing the blanket beneath him now, the tingling in his ass rapidly growing unbearable.

 

“I’ll give you credit, you’re pretty fucking determined. Sticking with this like a champ, even taking a few slaps on the ass like a pro competitor in some kind of amateur sub games. Get the boy a prize for his troubles; you done good.”

 

Now he was even less sure what to expect of Bro…the hands disappeared, the warmth from Bro’s body gone completely…not that he himself wasn’t still burning up something fierce. He fought to at least stop his trembling and regain control over his breathing, to prepare himself for his continued struggle…one that his partner was determined to make the most difficult fucking thing he’d ever done in his entire god damn life.

 

Hands spread him, exposed him, held him apart with nothing to hide him, and he breathed in sharp. He felt something warm and insubstantial brush the sensitive skin there, and by the time he’d worked out that it was an exhalation Bro’s tongue was already lazily tracing the ring of muscle.

 

It was not fair. Not fucking fair at all.

 

That bastard knew _exactly_ what it did to him, and he was taking extra care to make him feel every little movement of the slick flesh against his own, every drag, every lick, every little teasing press. The nerve endings there were going crazy, lighting up like the freaking city of New York, and he was sure his shaking was just as visible from space. Hell, the whole bed was shivering with the force of the tremors running through his body, each muscle coiled so taut he thought one of them was going to snap in half at any moment. Each little touch nearly blew his mind straight out of the realm of conscious thought and right into incoherent mumbling, but he was fighting with every fiber of his being to prevent it.

 

He was burning up, melting from the inside out, becoming a complete pile of mush…a slave to the sensations, the almost ticklish pleasure that radiated through his whole body and completely swallowed up the remaining tingling across his ass cheeks. As Bro really got into it, pressed closer and rolled his tongue against it in a maddening circle, he could feel his nose bump against him repeatedly, and the thought of how he looked right now made it that much harder to control himself.

 

The tip was pushing, digging and twisting against the tight entrance, demanding to be given access…the grip of his fingers tightened until it nearly hurt as Bro pushed and pushed and finally managed to get the muscles to relinquish just a little bit of territory…he only slid in a millimeter, maybe two, but it sent Dave into a writhing fit that his hips couldn’t stand up to, and he fell back flat on the mattress in a shaking pile of boneless nerves. He could still feel the scalding, moist heat beginning to probe him, even if Bro’s mouth had fallen away.

 

A soft chuckle made it through the haze of his arousal, and he felt hands guide him back onto his back. In his current state it made him dizzy as hell, and he groped around for something stable. His hand curled around Bro’s wrist as a warm palm hugged the curve of his cheek.

 

“You know I won’t stop until you’ve given me exactly what I want,” Bro said conversationally as his other hand removed Dave’s boxers completely. They disappeared, just like that, out of the tiny space his world had become without his vision. He had no clue where they ended up.

 

“You could make this far easier on yourself by giving in now,” Bro’s tongue was on his ear, and boy did that make Dave shudder when accompanied with the knowledge of where he’d just been licking. He heard a faint snap, but despite straining to gather more information about it, couldn’t tell what it was from. That is, not until he felt something cold pressed against his entrance. “Good thing we both enjoy doing this the hard way.”

 

A finger slid into him, meeting minimal resistance. His muscles were still like jelly and just as trembly, and he had gotten far more used to the sensation of being wrapped around something thick and hot. The lubricant warmed fast and made slick noises as the digit pulled back, leaving just the tip within him before plunging inside once more. Bro stroked his walls, pressed into them, curled and twisted his finger to touch every inch he could reach within Dave. By now he’d grown to enjoy this feeling more, even if the pleasure was milder in comparison to Bro’s tongue or the feeling that _spot_ would send through him…but Bro took his time getting there, giving him plenty of opportunity to anticipate it.

 

It was a blatant taunt, of course, that he would choose this thing to allow him to anticipate. It was Bro’s way of saying that regardless of how much preparation he did, no matter how well he steeled himself for it, there was no way he’d be able to prevent his reservations from crumbling once he dug in.

 

His motions were humiliatingly casual, nonchalant and unrushed, just moving around inside him almost lazily. Even when he first slid in a second finger it was just an idle backwards and forwards motion accompanied by plenty of rubbing and little presses here and there. It ignited a growing pleasure, a growing need to experience the thing he was becoming increasingly expectant of. He wanted Bro to do it properly, to stop this teasing nonsense that was sending tongues of mild electricity licking through his limbs and give him something substantial. But it continued like that, slow thrusts and lazy exploration until he was panting and clenching around Bro’s fingers. It was only when his back started arching to try and guide Bro to the right spot that fingertips suddenly grazed it.

 

After all that waiting building up his need for this kind of stimulation like blowing a balloon full of air, it shot through him, a lightning bolt after little sparks of feeling, frying his raw nerves and making his hips bounce right up off the bed. It was the tiniest touch, the lightest of presses with upward-curled fingers, but it wrung a silent sob from him as he tilted his head back, turned it from one side to the other, and tried to tear holes in his blankets with weak, shaky hands.

 

Bro’s fingers held perfectly still within him as the tremors died back down, but he was still gasping for breath when they thrusted upwards again, jabbing into that spot with a bit more force and speed. The gasp he gave was strangled, not enough to be a sound but he was so close to just losing it, the physical toll it was taking on his body far too much for him to handle much longer. And again this seemed communicated to Bro through some wordless means…it was then that he began to work him over, starting slow but firm, striking his insides with painfully perfect accuracy. Each touch was an explosion of light behind his eyes, as if losing the sense gave him a refined version and he could visualize the sensation washing through him.

 

The pace was maddening, a steady rhythm of press, one, two, three, press, one, two, three, so that the electric shock had time to pool in his groin and leave only a lingering buzzing across the surface of his skin by the time Bro was igniting his insides again. It made his body undulate with the movements, hips bucking and back arching and head thrown back, rocking him and yet still frustratingly unsatisfying. Again, and again, and again was he subject to the torment, of rising and falling sensation that gradually built up, each little peak rising from a slightly higher starting point of desperation.

 

It ever so subtly began to increase, fractions of a second falling away between his forceful thrusts, and it was rapidly reaching the point of being constant stimulation with no pause inbetween.

 

“Well, this has been a most delightful game, Mr. Strider, but I think we both know it’s about high time that you lost,” came a deep, rumbling purr against his ear. Just the sound of Bro allowing his own arousal to seep into his voice was nearly enough to end him right there…it was pure stubborn determination that kept his tongue clenched between his teeth to the point of physical discomfort, to the point he could taste a vaguely metallic tinge in his own saliva. “We both know you aren’t fucking fooling anyone here; it’s taken you everything you got in this tight little body of yours to keep from moaning like a champ, and I haven’t even touched your weeping dick.”

 

As he spoke, his pace continued to quicken, and maybe he was finally losing some of his own self-control…much more indeterminate than Dave’s crumbling inhibitions, but Bro was thrusting harder, more demandingly than he would allow himself otherwise. The pleasure throbbed through him, made his balls ache, and sure enough he could feel a bit of precum ooze its way down the underside of his shaft. Half of the reason for his shaking at this point seemed to stem from all of the noises he was keeping locked up in the prison of his ribcage, even as the cell overfilled and he could feel a tenseness in his larynx.

 

“And you know what, little man?” Bro’s voice lowered further in tone, so that he felt the following sinister words more than he heard them. “I ain’t touching it ‘till you’ve squealed.”

 

Beyond unfair, his body gave a jerk as if he meant to protest the unexpected turn of events, but being stubborn didn’t mean he was stupid; his lungs ached, his breath held in slightly puffed cheeks as a last ditch effort to keep quiet, he knew if he opened his mouth that it would be over. And yet with the force that Bro’s fingers pounded into his spot, their speed substantial enough to make the pleasure a constant sensation that seemed to drag his body along the edge…overwhelming, mind blowing, thought-consuming pleasure that coiled and squirmed in his very core, but not enough to give him what he _needed_ right now…

 

A few more thrusts and the last of his resolve unraveled like a spool of ribbon embroidered with the stars exploding behind his eyes.

 

“ _Holy f…fuck_!” Dave cried out in a great rush of air that made his exclamation breathy. Fresh oxygen flooded through him, nearly giving him an accompanying high on top of the peak of pleasure Bro was keeping him balanced precariously upon. “Shit, shit, _shit_ , oh m-my…fucking… _god_ …fu…uck…I can’t, Christ Bro!” And he was loud as hell, just as Bro had so kindly pointed out earlier. But how could he help it when his insides were being so roughly invaded, when it felt like they had all turned to a trembling, bubbling mess of soup and pleasure was the broth he was being boiled alive in?

 

His eyes snapped open and clenched shut behind the blindfold, his body jerking, bouncing, half forcing himself down on Bro’s fingers and half trying to fuck the air in front of him, as if the slightest friction from the motion might be enough to stimulate his engorged cock into the orgasm he craved with the entirety of his being. His toes curled, thighs jerking together and spreading apart, knees bending and snapping out straight so that his heel slid on smooth sheets. The moans that spilled freely and shamelessly from his lips nearly drowned out the slick sound of Bro’s fingers abusing his stretched hole.

 

“F-for god’s sake my…fucking balls…gonna burst, holy crap…touch…fucking touch it already, you ba-astard!” He grabbed for him again with hands that shook so hard he bumped Bro’s shoulder twice without being able to hold on to anything. But before he could correct their trajectory, fingers abruptly curled around his throat and squeezed.

 

It wasn’t enough to block his airway significantly, just make the breaths drawn sound raspy, wheezy, even straining the little keening sound he gave in response to the pressure. And all the while Bro didn’t let up, kept him suspended right there in throes of agonizing passion.

 

“You’re really fucking loud, aren’t you?” he chuckled, thumb rubbing a bruise into the surface of his neck. “Guess when it comes down to it you really _do_ want the neighbors to know exactly what I’m doing to you.” Lips burned a trail along his jaw, roaming a little higher to clean off the small amounts of moisture that had managed to escape onto his cheek. “You even sound pretty god damn delicious when I hold you like this, too.”

 

 

And it was torture, pure torture, no mercy on Bro’s part as he kept finger fucking him like a machine with one programmed purpose: drive Dave Strider into insanity. Even with his windpipe restricted he was loud as hell, noises more gravelly and rough as he choked them out. Bro kept his body off of him, though, and he _knew_ that fucker was watching the way he twisted and squirmed and thrashed, and the one time he tried to kick him, he found a knee digging painfully into his thigh to keep it obedient.

 

No, he didn’t let up until Dave was sobbing incoherent pleas with each choking breath, fingers pawing uselessly at Bro’s bicep as he begged for his release. There was nothing left of him to humiliate, nothing but a throbbing mass of hypersensitive nerves and need. He had been reduced down to base desperation of the most carnal sort.

 

Fingers disappeared from within him, slick digits pushing him onto his side. He had gone limp, too numb with pleasure to resist or question it as Bro guided his thigh up, until his knee was touching his own chest. Rustling fabric, shifting, Bro’s forearm supporting under his neck with his fingers still curled loosely around his throat, and then the slippery, blunt head of Bro’s dick was prying him open again.

 

“ _Yessss_ ,” Dave hissed between clenched teeth, and the sound seemed enough to excite Bro into pressing his fingers tighter against Dave’s throat, strangling the sob that rose to his lips. ”God yes, p-put it in… _fuck me, damnit_!”

 

Each inch slid past the stretched ring of muscle, delving into twitching, rippling walls that held Bro tight like a velvety, molten vice. The rest of his limbs may have been useless but his insides worked of their own accord, squeezing and clenching around him, trying to coax him deeper inside. Bro went in slow about halfway before giving up his own composure and jamming it in, his tight stomach resting against Dave’s hip, his chest laying on Dave’s side. To prevent himself from gripping Dave’s neck too hard, his other hand went back to holding the raised thigh, digging in his nails as Dave shuddered beneath him and tried to buck his hips.

 

Perhaps he had finally worn Bro’s patience thin, because there was no long wait between the time Bro fully seated himself balls-deep in Dave, and the moment he began to pound him with all the force those deliciously sculpted muscles could provide. He felt them flexed against him as their bodies rubbed together, swore he could make out every vein and contour on Bro’s dick as it rammed into him again and again, the delicious friction and Bro’s hot breath on his ear driving him right back to that point of pleasurable, painful insanity. He was a complete mess beneath him, Bro’s body preventing the level of squirming he’d probably be engaged in at that moment otherwise, left instead to mumble words: curses, pleas, encouragement, threats, nonsensical noises that rose into moans and dropped down into primitive wordless growls.

 

Bro kept varying the strength of his hold on Dave’s neck as his hips struck him again and again, loud and lewd when combined with the wet sliding noises of his thoroughly lubricated dick rubbing his insides. The tightening seemed more sporadic than calculated, however, like he wasn’t even a hundred percent aware of it, like his own pleasure controlled the involuntary clenching of his fingers. Dave was forced to endure moments where he could hardly breathe at all, mixed between reprieves of desperate mouthfuls of air pulled in to hungry lungs. And when it occurred in tandem with the peak of pleasure he’d been forced back to, unable to finish just yet but subjected to intense waves that rocked through him and rolled about within him, it was rapidly making him very dizzy…especially when Bro’s grip tightened and didn’t loosen.

 

It wasn’t tight enough to prevent him from breathing at all, but with the rate that his physical exertion ate through his oxygen stores it was most definitely enough to make him feel like he was properly being choked. The world was being turned on its side and the bed fell away as every inch of his body became consumed with pleasure and burning and aching, to the point where he couldn’t tell where within him each sensation began and ended – it just resonated through his entirety.

 

Then fingers were brushing down the underside of his thigh to curl tight around his painfully engorged member, giving quick, sharp flicks of his wrist and focusing the cup of his fingers around the ultra sensitive head. Dave gave a strangled cry as his whole body tensed up, muscles tightening around Bro’s cock, the pleasure coiled within him wrapping tighter around itself and preparing to snap with so much intensity that he was half-scared to feel it. He was mere moments from toppling over the edge into an abyss of overwhelming feeling, though the lack of air began to fuzz the edges of his consciousness.

 

“C’mon, scream for me…fucking scream for me, Dave, let ‘em all hear how good I’m…making you feel…scream like a bitch while you blow your load.” Bro growled, lips pressed to his jaw, the jerky movements of his own hips sporadic against Dave’s ass.

 

And just as he felt himself teetering, slipping, beginning to tumble over, the fingers around his neck relaxed and all of his senses (minus the sight he was deprived of) flared up in a rush of inputs that completely overloaded his everything. He was screaming as spasms ripped through his muscles, made him clench again and again around Bro, pleasure crashing into him and throwing him helplessly wherever it pleased. Heat, tingling, coiling, spasming, it was all he was aware of as thick ropes of white sprayed against his stomach, as his balls emptied all over him and left him a mess. It barely even registered that Bro was still fucking him for a few moments after that, before he filled him to the brim.

 

Hell, he couldn’t even remember when he’d finally stopped screaming.

 

All of his extremities still felt numb and he was still sucking down air as fast as his lungs could process it by the time he noticed fingertips sliding ever-so carefully along the fabric of his blindfold, tracing the edge to the knot behind his head, partially loosened from all his thrashing. A few deft movements had it sliding lower on his nose, then off his face completely, and he flinched as light shone red through his eyelids. It took some coaxing to pry them open, and his vision was a little blurry at first, but he could most definitely make out the smirking face looming over him. His eyes narrowed with whatever strength he had left, but it didn’t dissuade Bro from tracing Dave’s lower lip with his thumb.

 

“If you start spewing some fucking ‘I told you so’ shit I swear to god—“

 

“The level of confidence you hold in my manners is pretty shitty, kiddo. I have no intention of mentioning just how god damn loud you were, how I’m sure they heard it for several floors beneath us. I _was_ , however, going to muse aloud over my plans for next time; a combination of ‘daddy play’ and smacking that fine ass, perhaps?”

 

The irritation that amused tone ignited within him was enough fuel to help him find the strength to snatch up a pillow and attempt to smother Bro beneath it, which ultimately led to a very naked pillow fight and a broken lamp.

 

A couple of weeks later, he received a notification in the mail: a fine for several hundred dollars for “disturbing the peace”. Despite his best attempts of blocking Bro from seeing it, the asshole found it anyway…and the smug look he gave Dave was enough to make him want to return the whole ‘spanking favor’ a hundredfold. 

**Author's Note:**

> Credit for the gorgeous art goes to the incredible Kelaruj, who is a very amazing friend for agreeing to do this with me ;u; thank you a bunch Kela!!


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